Flavia
by damaged item
Summary: Flavia is a slave in Caius Martius' (later called Coriolanus) house. She's the one to treat his injures after war. Smut. Adult language. Rough sex. MA . 18.
1. Chapter 1

Finally! The meal is finished. You thought you'd never end preparing the different dishes for the master's return, but with an extra effort from the four of you, you did it. You had barely slept these last two days, and all you wish now is a long night of repairing sleep. Not that you're going to enjoy it today, though.

The master's arrival after rejecting the Tarquins will bring an overload of people around the house, with all the extra work it implies. And both he and his mother don't tolerate failures. You cannot say they are nice masters. They are really strict, but they don't mess with us unless it's necessary. If you do your duty as requested, you won't have any troubles. And the master spends so much time fighting and exercising, that he's barely home, so there are little chances of upsetting him.

Sometimes you wished to be the slave of one of those Christian masters. They say they are really kind, and fair, almost like a family.

"Flavia! Your help is needed. The master has arrived, and he's injured. Mistress Volumnia requires you to take care of his wounds."

You took the box with the clean linen, the balms and herbs, asked Petronius to bring some clean water and you flew to the master's room.

You acquired some medical knowledge during the years you served a Greek doctor in Antium, and that has gained you a reputation in master Martius' house. Many a time you've helped him healing his fighting wounds and minimizing the scars. You know mistress Volumnia doesn't like that at all, but as long as you are taking care of those wounds, you won't let those ugly scars spoil him.

You entered the room, and found him unconscious, already in bed. His mother was counting every wound, proud of each and every one of them, admiring in ecstasy the oak-leaf crown he had won. Sometimes you wonder if she loves his scars more than she loves him.

You cleared your throat to let her know you're there.

"Ah, Flavia, you're there. Come in."

"How is he? What can I do, mistress?"

"The surgeon already examined him at the camp. He thinks he'll survive, but he has an injury in the neck and two more in the left thigh. He's very weak after the blood loss, and the surgeon ordered to check his injuries twice a day. Of course you'll be relieved of any other duty until he's recovered. I'll leave you now. If you need something, you know what to do."

You nodded silently, and turned towards him.

You approached the bed carefully, and looked at him. He was so pale and looked so fragile… You had never seen him like this. You let Petronius enter the room with the fresh water, and he run off from the room as fast as he could. He did not want to face the master's fury again. So, you were left alone in the room.

First of all, you had to undress him. Those filthy clothes won't help healing. You cut off the tunic, carefully unsticking it from the wounds, and started cleaning him, to locate the injuries. You took a piece of clean cloth, soaked it in fresh water, and carefully brushed his forehead, moving through his nose, and his cheeks. You cleaned his lips, remembering the first time he kissed you. He wasn't gentle at all, but he stirred something inside you. After that, he started fucking you every time he returned from a training. He arrived excited, aroused, full of lust, after defeating every opponent, and he used you as his release. You really liked it. Furious, raw sex that left you shaking for hours.

You returned to the present, and kept cleaning his neck, and chest. You lingered there, admiring his broad chest, rubbing it tenderly and checking for hidden injuries. You rinsed the cloth, and proceeded to clean his abdomen, losing yourself in the thin trail of hair, and the shape of his muscles. You finished cleaning his long legs, did your best cleaning his back, and then untied the belt to remove his loincloth. You admired him, naked, so beautiful, so quiet, so unlike him that your belly tightened, and hurt, and a lonely tear fell from your eye.

You carefully uncovered the neck's injury. It didn't look good. You didn't know what that surgeon did, but certainly he did not take care of it. You picked a new cloth and cleaned it carefully. You poured some vinegar over it, took a dose of the balm and applied it over the wound before covering it with a new bandage. He stirred slightly, but not as he should. The vinegar should sting a lot, and he barely protested. That was not a good sign.

You went to the wounds of his left thigh, uncovering them. One of them was very deep. He must have bled a lot. The other one looked better. You cleaned them again with vinegar, applied more balm on the deep one, and some honey on the lighter one. You bandaged them, and covered him with a new tunic. Now you can only wait, and pray.

You brought the dirty water and clothes to the laundry room, and returned to the room as soon as you could with more fresh clean water, some wine and a piece of bread.

You sat by his side again, watching his chest move up and down with every breath; his breathing was heavier now, and he was stirring, mumbling things you couldn't understand. His forehead was filling with small drops of sweat. You got your hand close to his face and felt the heat coming from it before you even touched it. He was boiling with fever.

You took the charm off your wrist, and gently tied it to his. You should bring it to the Temple of Febris at the Palatine, and ask the Goddess for his recovery. Meanwhile, you wiped the sweat from his forehead, poured a few drops of water on his dry lips and rubbed his body with a fresh damp cloth, to refresh him.

Finally he seemed to calm down a little, though he kept on speaking in his dreams. You were alone, and he was asleep, so you dared to hold his hand, whishing you could do something more to ease him.

You were so tired after these last days work, that you leaned your head against the wall, and thought about him. You remembered that first time, after a particularly long training session, when he defeated five of his opponents without getting even a bruise. You liked to watch him when you could. He was so brave, so fierce, so strong… He entered the house like a wild animal. You were finishing the cleaning of the last room, when he spotted you. You saw him coming towards you, his eyes darker than usual, breathing heavily. He took you by the waist and tossed you into the room.

"I saw you watching me before. Did you like it, woman?"

He grabbed your hair and leaned your head backwards while he pressed his body against yours. He kissed you, pushing his tongue inside your mouth, biting your lips, and your chin, and then your neck. You could feel his hardness between your legs and you could only think of having him inside you.

"I asked you if you liked what you saw." You couldn't even speak, so you nodded. He then slid his hand under your white woollen tunic, searching for your sex. He touched you, and felt your wetness. You blushed.

"I think you really liked it, you little whore. Let's see if you like this, too."

He turned you around and said: "Put your hands in the wall and don't move." You obeyed him, your sex throbbing with the anticipation of what was coming. He separated your legs with his feet, tore your tunic apart and untied his loincloth, rubbing his hardness against your sex. You let go a deep moan, and moved your hips to meet his erection.

"I said… don't move." You heard the sound of a slap, and then you felt it in your ass. You gasped, and felt it burning when he slapped you again, harder this time. You felt the tears falling from your face, and then you felt him entering you, in one hard thrust. The mixture of pain and pleasure was more than you could have imagined, and you moaned louder as he slapped you again, while he pushed harder inside you.

He grabbed your hair with one hand and kissed your neck, while he cupped your breast with his free hand. He kept pushing deeper, and harder, growling like an animal behind your ear, and you felt a wave of pleasure growing inside your legs. He kept thrusting, and suddenly everything became blurred, your legs were shaking and you could not breathe. Your sex was throbbing, and the wave was spreading through all your body. You cried in ecstasy, and then you felt him growling deeper and finishing his pleasure inside you. He lingered inside you until he recovered his breath, he put his clothes on, and left. You stood there, breathless, feeling your juices sliding through your thighs, wondering when he will exercise again.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning mistress Volumnia entered the room to enquire about her son. "How is my son feeling today?"

"Yesterday night he was boiling with fever, but I managed to cool him a little. He's better this morning, but he is still stirring in his sleep. I think maybe I should go to the temple of Febris to make an offer to the Goddess and pray for his recovery, mistress."

She took a look at him and nodded. "You are right. Go to the temple, but come back as soon as possible to take care of him. Do not delay." She turned around and left the room without a second thought about him.

You shook your head in disbelief, and reached the side of his bed. Touching his forehead, you noticed he was still hot, but not boiling, as yesterday. You sighed, relieved. Maybe he'd recover after all. You held his hand for a while, maybe a little longer than was proper, and then you took off the charm you had tied there, tying it to your wrist.

Caressing his face, you whispered: "I'll be back soon, master."

He did not move, though he mumbled some words you could not understand. You left the room and run to the temple as fast as you could. Once there, you untied the charm from your wrist and left it at the altar, saying a silent prayer for the Goddess to save the life of the man you… of your master.

You ran back home, and stopped in the kitchen to grab some bread and wine, clean linen and you also asked Petronius to bring some more fresh water to the master's bedroom.

The room's air was thick, filled with the scent of the balms, vinegar, blood, sweat… You opened the thick clothes covering the windows, and let the light of day and some fresh morning air come into the room. As soon as Petronius brought the heavy jar of fresh water, you took off your master's gown to clean him again and check his wounds, in case the bandages would need to be changed.

You looked at him, admiring how beautiful he is. His short curled hair, a pair of big sky blue eyes, a masculine jaw, thin lips, a broad chest, sculpted in so many battles, along with his powerful and strong arms and those callous hands, capable of bringing you to the edge of heaven every time they touched you. You stared at his tough thighs, and that piece of flesh that made you forget you were only a slave whenever he possessed you.

You took a clean cloth and soaked it with fresh water to wash his face. He wasn't as dirty as yesterday when they brought him in, but you enjoyed every little contact with his tanned skin. You also cleaned his hair, longer than usual after all these months far from home, and you tangled your fingers inside his long curls, caressing his head and playing with his hair. You finished washing the rest of his body as well.

You knew it was not proper, but you couldn't avoid seizing the chance of feeling him. You'd like to be able to touch him, caress him, hug him, kiss him… But you knew you're just a slave, you didn't even have the right to look at him. And you should be thankful that a man like master Martius had ever set his eyes on someone like you, even if it was just to release his lust with you. You couldn't ask for more than that. The pain inside you came out as a deep sigh.

You took out the bandage of his neck, checking the injury again. It looked better than yesterday, and it did not smell like rotten flesh, which is a good sign. Anyway, you cleaned it again. Pouring some vinegar over it, you heard him groaning, his neck and chest tightening, though he did not move. You smiled at this little improvement, and silently thanked the Goddess for her help. After preparing the balm, you applied it over the wound and covered it again with a clean strip of cloth that crossed his chest, tying the knots with care.

Now you had to check the other injuries. Uncovering them, you saw that they also looked better than the day before. In fact, the lighter one could be left uncovered already. The other one would take a little longer, but it was not likely to rotten now. You'd you your best to avoid it. Once the wounds were uncovered, you cleaned them again with fresh water, and you saw the goose bumps in his skin at the contact of the cold water with his groin, and when you poured vinegar over the wounds, not only he groaned, but he also said some words, speaking between his teeth and slurring words.

"Are you… trying… to kill me… woman…?"

You smiled to yourself while you answered him.

"No, master. I'm sorry, master, but it has to be done."

He did not say another word, so you went on with your duty, spreading the balm over the wound and covering it again with clean clothes. He soon fell asleep, and finally he could rest quietly, no stirrings or fever bothering him.

You sat by the bed, and said a prayer to the Gods. You did not remember having fallen asleep, but you felt your head resting on something soft, and something stirred under you. As soon as you opened your eyes, you stood up, realizing you had fallen asleep over your master's belly. He was now awake, his shaft was hard as a rock, and you heard him moaning quietly. He looked at you, took your hand and brought it to his groin. There was no need for words. Even if you could have said no, you wouldn't have. You adoration for your master was both physical and spiritual, and your physical need for him was endless.

You held his gaze while you slid your hand up and down his hard cock, slowly at first, enjoying his warmth, his twitches, the sounds coming from his throat, his body tightening under your touch when you started stroking him faster.

It was late, and you were sure no one would enter the room at this time of the night, but just in case, you walked around the bed, placing your body between him and the door, so no one could see what was happening. You slid one hand from his knee to his groin, slowly, letting your nails draw red lines all the way up, while your other hand did the same from his chest to his belly. At the same time, you took him in your mouth, all you could take of him, because of his size, and it made him arch his body over the bed, letting go a deep groan that went directly between your legs. Your wetness was sliding down your thighs by then, and you pressed them together, trying to get some release.

He must have felt it, because he slid his hand under your tunic, finding you wet for him. He pushed one of his strong fingers inside you, and this time it was you the one moaning in pleasure, feeling your legs weakening.

"Ride me." That was an order you would never argue. You went up the bed, raising your tunic while you straddled him.

"Take that off. I want to see you." You raised your tunic over your head, and threw it to the floor. The fresh air coming from the open windows clashed with the heat of your skin, and you felt your nipples hardening and your skin filling with goose bumps. His cock was completely hard, resting over his belly. You placed your sex over it, carefully avoiding the bandage on his left thigh, and you started moving your hips back and forth, rubbing his cock and coating it with your juices as your pleasured yourself with him. He was not going to allow you to do it much longer, and you saw it in his face, so you raised your hips up and placed it on your entrance, letting your body slowly fall down on him, letting his hardness fill you, until he was fully sheathed within you. You heard and felt his deep groan inside your bones, and it made your sex throb with pleasure as you stood there, quiet as a stone, making the need for friction grow painfully between you both. You put your hands over his chest, bracing yourself as you started slowly rocking your hips back and forth. He brought his hands towards yours, twining your fingers together and locking his eyes on yours for a few moments. That was almost… tender? No, you must have imagined it.

He then cupped your generous breasts with his hands, stroking them, increasing your pleasure, until you could take it no more and started riding him faster, letting him get out of you just to fall down on him again, deeper, and faster. He grabbed your hips with all his strength, bent his knees and braced his feet on the bed so he could pump deeper upwards, lifting you with every thrust, hitting every inch of your insides.

He was breathing heavily, moaning with every thrust, and he was as close as you. You helped him following his rhythm, increasing the depth of his thrusts, until you felt your pleasure filling you, clenching around him. He arched his back and in one hard push he finished inside you, collapsing over the bed, sweating and trying to recover his breath. You kept him inside you until his cock softened and his breath relaxed. He fell asleep soon after, and you took the chance for cleaning him again after you had somehow washed yourself.

You were tired, too, so you fell asleep in your chair as soon as you sat there, and you woke up the next morning feeling his hand grabbing yours.


	3. Chapter 3

Flavia took away her hand from his grasp before someone entered the room and saw it, as she tried to understand what it meant. Why did he grab her hand while sleeping? She thought that probably he was having a bad dream and he was grabbing his sword in a battle. Because master Martius was not a tender person; he did not like people most of the time, and Flavia wouldn't even be considered as "people", being just a slave.

"_Forget about that, you fool"_, she thought to herself.

She stood up, checking if he was ok. His breathing was smooth and even, and his skin was just warm, so Flavia left the room quietly to wash herself and change her tunic, and stopped in the kitchen to grab some food. Since she had been taking care of the master, she had only taken some bread, and the smell that came from the kitchen made her stomach growl with hunger. But she did not have time to eat.

She took a look at Claudia, and asked her for the master's breakfast. She gestured at Flavia to take whatever she wanted, so she grabbed a piece of recently baked bread and some leftovers of roasted game from yesterday, and put them in a tray, with some spiced wine, a bowl of figs and a piece of hard bread (for her), and she took it to the master's room. He'd be hungry when he'd wake up.

When she was reaching his room, she heard him shouting her name. Terrified, she ran through the corridor, struggling to keep the contents of the tray in place. Once she arrived, she saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, sweating, and trying to stand up, though she knew the injury on his thigh would not allow his leg to sustain him. She left the trail on the nearest table and run to him, trying to keep him from standing up.

"I'm here, master. Don't stand up. Your leg is not yet healed and the injury could bleed again." She tried to stop him, though she knew there would be no way she could stop him if he wanted to do it. He was far stronger than her.

"Where were you? You should have been here." His voice sounded deeper than usual, as if he was really angry, though she could not tell if he was angry with her, with the Gods, or with the injuries that kept him tied to his bed.

Flavia helped him lying in bed again, and tried to explain. "I went to change my clothes and then I went for some food for you, master. You must be hungry."

She helped him sitting up in bed and gave him the trail with food and wine. While he ate, she busied herself trying to clean up the room. She always felt bad having to spend days in that room caring for her master, while the rest of the servants had to struggle to add her work to their already excessive tasks.

Flavia woke up confused in her own bug-ridden mat, in the room she shared with Claudia and the other female slaves. She did not know what had happened. How did she arrive here? She tried to stand up, but she felt weak and dizzy, and had to lie down again.

Then she saw Claudia entering the room with a trail of food. "How are you feeling? You fainted in the master's room this morning." She left the trail near her mat.

"This morning? What time is it? How did I get here? I don't remember anything…" She tried to remember, but the only thing that came to her mind was her trying to clean the room. Then, everything went black.

"The sun is about to set now, and I was ordered to bring you some food. It seems you haven't eaten properly since the master arrived. When you fainted, master Martius called for help and ordered Petronius to bring you here, so you could rest. Mistress Volumnia ordered me to bring the food. She was not happy at all."

"Oh, no. I have to change his bandages and check his wounds. Was she very upset? I have to go. I don't want to be punished." Flavia was terrified. Some sweat drops fell from her temples, her heart was fighting for getting out of her chest, and her hands trembled uncontrollably. Having experienced how some of their slaves were punished, she thought she'd rather die than go through that.

Flavia took some fruit from the tray, ate it in one gulp and stood up. She didn't even thank Claudia for the food, and soon she was at his door again. She poked her head inside the room and saw that he was lying in bed alone. He was covering his face with his left arm, and he looked worried. Taking a deep breath, and still trembling with fear, she entered the room, asking the Gods to help her staying conscious, and hoping her master would not be very angry with her.

"What are you doing here?" His harsh voice startled her. "You should be resting if you want to be of any help."

"I'm sorry, master. I already had some rest and I ate some fruit. I'm feeling much better now. Besides, I must take care of your wounds." Her body had stiffened at the sound of his voice, and she did not dare to make eye contact with him. His fury was well known by everyone in the house, and no one wanted to taste it in their own flesh.

"Very well. But after you've finished, you'll leave until tomorrow morning."

"Yes, master, as you wish."

Flavia relaxed a little, and tried to focus on her master's wounds. Now that he was awake, she had to be more careful, and avoid looking at him, or touching him more than necessary. Unless he asked for it, of course. She was dying for touching him again, and having him inside her, but he seemed worried, anxious, and did not ask for it. Maybe he had received news of another battle, and he felt frustrated, having to be resting at home while others won the honours.

She had almost finished changing the bandages of his left thigh, when he stopped her.

"Enough. Leave now." He dismissed Flavia waving his hand at her.

She found strange that, since she came back, he hadn't even looked at her once. Most of the times he looked at her as if she was a piece of fresh meat in front of a hungry wolf, and sometimes he was even able to control his lust. But today, he barely noticed her.

She still had to tie the bandages, so she tried to warn him. "But master, I haven't finished yet."

"I told you to leave!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, and this time he really looked at her. If looks could kill, she would have died a thousand times in that instant. Flavia left the room running, flushed, and went directly to the servant's bedroom. She curled in her mat until her heart stopped pounding against her chest and she finally fell asleep.

Meanwhile, in his room, Martius was feeling like a caged lion, torn between the loyalty, gratitude and respect for his mother, and his own desires, unknown by anyone except himself.

His mother's visit that afternoon had done nothing but stressing him out. He knew what was expected of him, of course, and he also knew that he could not deny a single one of his adored mother's wishes. But he felt he was not ready to marry. Not yet. Even with the beautiful and noble Virgilia. His only love had always been fighting to defend his beloved Rome from its enemies.

Or so he had thought until today. She was the only one who really cared for him. His mother? Well, she loved him, for sure, but her biggest gladness and delight lied in watching him crowned with a collection of oaken garlands, and full of scars to prove his value. She would feel the same if it was achieved by any of his brothers.

But she… The way she looked at him, her hands, the plethora of feelings that threatened to overwhelm him every time she touched his skin, the way she played with his hair when she thought he was in Morpheus' arms, the care and tenderness she employed to heal his wounds, her attempts to hide a smile after he had possessed her, the feeling of calmness she gave him whenever she was near…

When he saw her faint, unable to reach her on time because of his damn wounds, he knew it. And something broke inside him when he saw her lying there, lifeless, at the mercy of the Gods.

He loved her. And he needed her. But he could never have her. Even if he would grant her freedom, he'd never be able to marry her, and that hurt more than a thousand wounds.

The angst grew inside him until it radiated from every inch of him. He groaned, he broke every piece of pottery in the room, threw a chair against a wall, smashing it in pieces, and growled at anyone who dared entering the room to see what happened. Finally, exhausted and aching, he lied in bed again. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, he already knew the answer, and thus, his decision was made. He had to marry Virgilia, but he would not give up on Flavia. She was his, and she'd always be.


End file.
